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The Surgeon's Secret: Hunted By My Ex

Chapter 7 7

Word Count: 684    |    Released on: 21/01/2026

ho

ay near the emergency exit was overflowing with his cigarettes. He

, holding a table

said quietly. "I

tched th

anna C

ed Cardiothor

opkins School

ellowship, Univ

Campbell M

maceutical conglomerates in the world? He remembered her talking about medical school before

red. The realization was a physical bl

above the OR d

et on a chair and str

, and her honey-blonde hair fell loose around her shoulders. She look

m. She did

ree feet away. The air between them

voice was roug

ofessional, distant. "The surgery was succe

to walk

"Mr. Brennan? Is that what

him. "My husband died four years ago, t

disappeared." He reached for her arm. "Where have you

ing her hands into the deep pockets

decided I was a trophy, so I played the trophy. It w

k," Hunt demand

ry, brittle sound. "I have

d, leaning in. "I shredded the pap

. "The law says otherwise. Abandonment. Separ

's voice rose, turning heads in th

" she commanded. "

"I have rounds to finish

er back was straig

e her, to drag her back to his reality. But the Chief

knees gave out. She sat on the bench, putting

dded th

pulled it out. A video

amas, holding a book. "Mommy, come home!

her chest melting instan

, baby," sh

nch coat and oversized sunglasses. S

de exit, ducking into

nodded to the old m

e you?" Ar

out the window as the city lights

nd

s me." Dianna's hand curled

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The Surgeon's Secret: Hunted By My Ex
The Surgeon's Secret: Hunted By My Ex
“For three years, I was the perfect trophy wife to billionaire Hunt Brennan, a silent fixture in his mahogany-rowed estate. I traded my medical career for a designer wardrobe and the hope that he might one day see me as more than a contract. But on our third anniversary, the dream died. Hunt came home reeking of scotch and threw grainy photos of a charity gala handshake in my face, calling me a gold-digging parasite. He didn't just accuse me; he broke me. He shattered glass against the wall, bruised my jaw with his grip, and dragged me upstairs to "punish" me, all while whispering his ex-girlfriend's name in the dark. By morning, his mother had called to evict me to the guest cottage because his true love, Chasity, was back and needed the master suite. I left with nothing but a dusty suitcase and a secret: two pink lines on a pregnancy test. When my Uber broke down in a freezing downpour, Hunt drove past me in his Maybach, rolling down the window just to tell me to enjoy the rain. He left me stranded, never knowing he was leaving his own child behind. I didn't understand how a man could be so cruel to the woman who gave up everything for him. Did he really think I was just a doll he could discard the moment his "angel" returned? Four years later, the "submissive" Mrs. Brennan was dead. In her place stood Dr. Dianna Campbell, the top cardiothoracic surgeon in Europe. I stepped off the helicopter at Mount Sinai to save his sister's life, and Hunt was there, desperate and broken. "Dianna?" He whispered my name like a prayer, but I didn't even blink. "Dr. Campbell. Refrain from touching the staff, Mr. Brennan." He thought he could shred our divorce papers to keep me trapped, but he was about to learn that the woman he abandoned in the rain didn't need his permission to exist-and she certainly didn't need him.”